


Dream Pattern

by theotheralissa



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotheralissa/pseuds/theotheralissa
Summary: "Want to know your future?"Aiba looks at the sign in the shop window curiously for a moment. He wonders. Does he want to know his future?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sky_fish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_fish/gifts).



> Written for Aibaexchange 2016! Originally posted [here](http://aibaexchange.livejournal.com/11392.html). Thank you to [muffinsome](http://archiveofourown.org/users/muffinsome/pseuds/muffinsome) for giving this fic a title, making it readable and for always listening to my stressed fic exchange ramblings XD Always a champion <3

Nino finds a place to set up shop on a busy corner in Shinjuku. An old café has gone out of business and it’s just small enough for him to fit himself and a table that keeps him and his clients a convincing distance apart. Because the café owners left in such a haste the equipment is still there – old but functional – so the first thing Nino does is make himself a cup of hot coffee, then he decides that the next day it’s time to open for business. 

In the window, he places a sign. “Want to know your future?” is all it says. He doesn’t name the shop, there is no need. It serves a function, and the only people who will come into this shop, no matter what the name is, are the ones who want to know the answer to that question. 

He can do anything. Palm reading, tea leaves, tarot. And while he may believe in the higher powers of fate and the spiritual (he may not, it depends on the day) he definitely doesn’t believe that he possesses any power to see into that great beyond. It isn’t written on the sign, but the “…then you might want to ask someone who knows” is implied. And explicitly stated the first time he meets a client. 

A young woman comes into the shop in the morning. His first customer. She looks a little tired and is wearing a uniform with two holes just under the right side of the collar where the pin of a name badge will be fastened probably soon after she leaves the shop. 

“Have a seat,” Nino says, indicating the table in front of him. 

She sits down, nervously, clutching her bag in her lap. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “First time?” 

She nods. 

“I don’t know your future,” Nino says. “This is just a place you can come to hear what you want to hear. I don’t have any powers or abilities and I know nothing at all about you or what is going to happen to you.” 

She blinks. Then nods again. 

“These are the rates,” Nino says, sliding a menu across the table. The rates are reasonable, he thinks, although he does want to make money so they range from low to high depending on how much customers want to pay. 

“This one,” she says, pointing to the basic course. The cheapest item on the menu. 

“Great,” Nino says with a smile. “Then what do you want to know?” 

“Will I get married?” she asks. 

Nino looks at her carefully and folds his arms across his chest. There are a few ways he could answer this. He could tell her yes and maybe her face would break into an expression of relief. But somehow, he doesn’t think this is the answer she wants. There isn’t an engagement ring on her finger, but the way her hands are folded, clutched over her bag, she keeps touching the ring finger of her left hand, almost as if it hurts. 

“No,” Nino says. “You’re not.” 

She nods in understanding, gives Nino the 1000 yen fee for his quick one-question service, then bows slightly before she leaves. 

“That went well,” Nino says, to no one, and puts on a fresh pot of coffee. 

\---

Aiba moves from Chiba to Tokyo. Only a 20-minute trip by train and the way Chiba blends into Tokyo proper doesn’t make for a very dramatic move. But his mother still fusses over him from the moment he announces his move until the electricity in his new apartment is turned on. 

He gets a job working at a bookstore – a big chain with escalators and books for miles. He recognizes the charm in all bookstores, from the small mom and pop one near his parent’s house to this one with the elevators and the seemingly endless aisles. But he’s always had a thirst for knowledge since he was a kid. He liked math and science and even though he didn’t become a scientist he became an adult that is still thirsty to learn something new every day. Not a bad thing to become, he thinks. 

Once he’s settled into his new place and his new job he goes wandering around his new neighborhood. There are a few smaller bookstores and some cafes. A pet shop and a few boutiques, mostly with women’s clothes but there is one for men that Aiba pokes his head into for a moment. Then at the end of the block there is a shop with no name and perhaps no visible purpose. Just a sign in the door that says “Want to know your future?” 

Aiba looks at the sign curiously for a moment. He tries to look in the window but the sun is hitting the glass just right so that he can’t see inside. 

He wonders. Does he want to know his future? 

Maybe not, he thinks. Not now, anyway. 

He keeps walking until the end of the block, around the corner, back home. But he can’t stop thinking about the question while he makes dinner, watches TV, takes a bath, then goes to bed and drifts off to sleep. 

\---

Aiba shelves books of all types. Fiction, memoir, language textbooks, history. He can’t help but at least peek at what’s written on the book jacket. Then sometimes when he’s shelving, he leaves a book or two behind in his cart so that he can flip through them when he’s on his break. 

Today he chooses a cookbook because it’s part memoir and has some Chinese recipes. His parents would like this book, he thinks, noting that it’s getting close to Christmas and instead of slipping the book back on the shelf he buys it when he leaves for the day. 

He walks home swinging the paper bag with the book in it (and a couple more for himself) at his side, but there it is again, that shop on the corner. He reads the question again. Then asks the question aloud to himself like he does every time he passes by. He’s been living here for two weeks now, which means he’s asked the question at least 14 times. 

He balls his hand up in frustration. “I still don’t want to know!” he says. Then realizes he said that a little louder than he intended and looks up and down the street. Thankfully no one is coming, but he does see a stray cat with perked up ears and Aiba brings his finger to his lips telling the cat to “shh”. 

He doesn’t want to open the door, but his hand closes around the door handle. He doesn’t want to go inside, but he pushes the door inward. He doesn’t want to step in, but the smell of fresh coffee wafts to his nose and then he floats the rest of the way inside and the door closes behind him with a jingle of the bells hanging in the doorframe. 

A guy (cute, Aiba notes) sits behind a table with his hands folded, fingers laced. 

“So you want to know the answer do you?” the guy asks. 

Aiba shakes his head “no” but out loud he says “yes.” 

\---

When that tall guy who has been peering in the window every day finally comes into the shop, Nino could probably say it was because of a premonition. It wouldn’t be true, but he could say it. The reason he knew the guy was going to come in today was entirely human and nothing more than a very good guess. But when he sees the guy looking in the window quite a bit more eagerly than he has the last few times he’s come, Nino hurriedly sits down at the table to be able to greet him as clairvoyantly as possible. 

“Have a seat, Aiba,” Nino says. 

Aiba’s eyes widen and he looks around the shop in a panic from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. “How did you know my name,” he says. 

“Nametag,” Nino says, without breaking his smile, and gesturing to the piece of plastic pinned just beneath Aiba’s lapel. 

Aiba clasps his hand over his nametag and breathes a sigh of relief. 

“You don’t believe in this do you,” Nino says. 

Aiba starts to open his mouth.

“Don’t get excited that I knew that,” Nino says. “It’s just that I don’t believe in it either.” 

“Eh?” Aiba says, looking intrigued and finally sitting down opposite Nino at the table. 

“I’m Ninomiya,” Nino says. “You can call me Nino. I’m a fake fortune teller.” 

“But…” Aiba says. “The sign?” He points at the window, weakly.

“It’s just a question,” Nino says. “Doesn’t mean I have an answer.” 

Aiba considers for a moment. Then he folds his hands on the table as well so that he and Nino look like a mirror image. 

“Then what do you do exactly?” he asks. 

“I take your money and tell you something you want to hear,” Nino says. “Then you leave with a feeling of satisfaction because I’ll have validated you.” 

“I sell books,” Aiba says. 

“Then we both make a good, honest living,” Nino grins. 

Nino takes a menu and slides it across the table, then he watches Aiba look over the prices from the bottom to the top. Interesting that he looks at it that way, Nino notes. Not like Nino who would immediately look for the cheapest price and the best deal. 

But even though Aiba looks at it that way he tentatively chooses the cheapest thing on the menu. 1000 yen for a quick and easy reading. Nino limits these to one sentence or two and usually tries to leave his customer with the feeling that if they pay a little more they can know a little. He’s up front about that too with an “add 500 yen for another thought” option. 

Aiba takes out his wallet and sets a 1000 yen bill on the table, then he holds his hands flat on the wood surface, fingers splayed as if he’s bracing himself. 

“You’re going to come in here again tomorrow,” Nino says. 

Aiba waits, but Nino doesn’t say anything more. 

“And?” Aiba asks after a beat. 

Nino points to the “add 500 yen” on the menu. 

“Eh really?” Aiba says. 

Nino taps his finger on the “500”. There is a small artistic rendering of a 500 yen coin there. Aiba and Nino engage in a short staring context before Aiba finally relents and takes a coin resembling the drawing and placing it on the table next to his bill. 

“And?” Aiba says again. 

“And every day after that,” Nino says. 

Aiba laughs. “Oh I get it!” he says. “That’s what you say to everyone then they keep coming back right?” 

Nino shrugs. It works, sometimes. Sometimes it doesn’t. He doesn’t really blame the people who don’t come back. Nino probably wouldn’t come back either. But the ones who do come back outnumber the ones who don’t. 

“You can interpret what I say however you like,” Nino says with a smile. “Alright anymore out of me and you’ll have to pay up.” 

“I have to get going anyway,” Aiba says. “But I might come back just because.” 

Nino flashes a smile and taps his finger on the drawing of the 500 yen coin again. 

Aiba just laughs and waves goodbye when he leaves, the door opening and closing with a jingle of the bells. Then just after the door closes its thrust open again and the woman who was the first to come into the shop on opening day comes inside. She doesn’t sit down and she waves her hands in front of her when Nino begins to slide the menu over to where she is. 

“I don’t need a reading or anything,” she says. “But you were right. I didn’t get married. I wasn’t sure about it, but I called off the wedding at the last minute and it was the best decision I ever made in my life.” 

Nino smiles serenely. But inside he can’t help but be excited. He didn’t see or know the future, but he just had a hunch. He takes a little pride in that. 

“I’m going to Europe,” she says. “Tomorrow.” 

“You’ll get married while you’re there,” Nino says. 

He watches her eyes widen in surprise. 

“That one’s for free,” he says. 

\---

Aiba goes to the shop every day. 

The day after Nino told him he’d come every day, he tried to walk past it. But his feet carried him in the door before he could protest. 

Some days, Nino is alone at the end of the table that looks glossier with each passing day. Nino himself seems to shine whenever Aiba walks in. He isn’t sure if it’s because seeing him makes Nino happy or it’s just sheer satisfaction with his prediction coming true. Those days Aiba sits down at the table without a word or a sound besides the sound of his wallet opening and the dancing sound of his coins. 

Other days, Nino is with a customer. There is a small corner that’s been turned into a makeshift waiting area. It’s behind a long counter where, when this was a café, the baristas used to work their coffee magic. Nino calls for Aiba to help himself and Aiba can hear the slide of the menu across the table. It’s days like this where Aiba presses himself as close to the counter as he can so he can hear everything Nino says. He tells people the kinds of things one would expect – you’re going to get that job, you’re going to win that race, you’re going to pass that test. But then he tells people things Aiba would never expect – you’re never going to be happy, you’re always going to be in debt, stop chasing your dreams they’re never going to come true. 

Even funnier still is that the people who he says the latter to always come back and thank him. Sometimes they burst in when Aiba is in the middle of a “reading”. And it’s always either that the person wants to defy Nino’s prediction and let him know it or they happened just as Nino said and everything worked out for the better. 

“You’re really good at this, you know,” Aiba says when Nino is “reading his tea leaves”. It’s not even tea, it’s coffee, and there are no leaves involved at all. 

“I’m the one doing the talking here,” Nino says.

“Sorry,” Aiba says. “But it’s true! Everyone trusts you.” 

“I said quiet,” Nino says. 

“Ooh if I do the talking does that mean you’ll pay me?” Aiba grins. 

“That’s why I do the talking,” Nino says. “And you do the paying.” 

“Okay okay,” Aiba says. He places another coin on the table and Nino tells him the spirits have stopped talking to him today and to come back again tomorrow. 

When Aiba comes the next day he brings books with him. A new shipment had come to the store. Some celebrity had mentioned astrology and it picked up like wildfire and at the shop he’d had to move a wall of books about gardening aside to make way for books about the stars. Then because it seemed logical, he moved some other books to the shelf as well – palm reading and other types of clairvoyance. Then just some books about getting in touch with your spiritual self. 

He brings a selection of them and heaves them onto the table when he gets to Nino’s shop. 

“I thought I was already good at what I do,” Nino says. 

“Well we can all learn a little more can’t we?” Aiba says. 

“I told you I’m a fake fortune teller,” Nino says. 

“Sure,” Aiba grins. 

Nino picks up a book about visions and dreams and flips through it then sets it back down again. “I prefer to use my own methods,” he says. 

“I’ll just leave them here,” Aiba says. “If you don’t want to read them you can leave them over there in the waiting area. Most places at least have magazines you know!” 

“I have coffee,” Nino says. 

“Well you could use some books,” Aiba says, already taking them over behind the bar. Nino waves him away, but he holds on to the book about dreaming and Aiba doesn’t say anything about it. 

He gives Aiba his reading as usual. This time he tells Aiba he’s going to encounter someone on his way home and when Aiba says to be specific Nino says, “You better get going or you’re going to miss them.” 

Aiba laughs and gets up. “See you tomorrow then?” 

“I’ll be waiting,” Nino says with a grin. 

Aiba does encounter someone on the way home. Lots of someones. A man walking his dog and a woman pushing a baby in a stroller. A couple struggling to carry about one hundred shopping bags. Aiba smiles at each and every one of them in case they’re the one. 

\---

A funny thing happens to Nino that night. 

Well, two funny things. First he takes home with him Aiba’s book about dreaming. Second, he has a dream about Aiba. 

He doesn’t know if one led to the other. Maybe he was always going to have a dream about Aiba and it’s a coincidence. Either way, he finds himself searching through the book frantically in the morning because the dream he had about Aiba wasn’t the simple type he’d usually have about anyone. He wasn’t a vague memory of Aiba or a background character in a dream story. He was in an apartment, one that Nino didn’t recognize, but in the dream he understood it to be Aiba’s apartment. The apartment was mainly colored blue and there was a big, white fluffy sofa that looked like a big, puffy cloud in the center of the blue sky walls. 

Aiba was standing there pulling a book off of a bookshelf. Nino struggled to read the title but it didn’t matter because the book slipped out of his hand, then Aiba fell back against the glass table beside the sofa. He hit his head then just kept lying there for a long time that stretched out to hours in his dream. 

Nino wakes up and nearly throws the blankets off of him. Still half in his dream, he wants to run to where Aiba is because it feels like something isn’t okay. The dream slips away from him as he wakes but the feeling of panic doesn’t. He’s halfway to getting his jeans on when he’s finally fully awake and remembers that he doesn’t know where it is that Aiba lives. 

He lies back down and looks up at the ceiling. It’s still what Nino would consider to be night but a dull and cloudy sunlight is struggling to enter his room. 

He groans and rolls over, then he does something he’s never done before. He gets up much, much earlier than any normal human should be awake. And when it’s nearly opening time he goes to the bookstore. 

\---

Aiba comes to work late that day because he has a dentist appointment in the morning. He takes the train then gets out at the station just around the corner from the bookstore with a minty fresh taste in his mouth. He smiles at people who pass left and right feeling like a shining smile like the dentist just gave him shouldn’t go to waste. Then just at the entrance of the bookstore he flashes a smile at a cute guy who, when he completely comes into view, is Nino. 

“You!” Aiba says, excitedly. Did Nino come here to see him? 

Nino just looks as if he’s studying him. 

“What?” Aiba says. 

“Are you okay?” Nino asks. 

“Yeah, I’m great!” Aiba says, flashing his bright, minty smile again. 

“’Kay,” Nino says, then turns around and walks the other way. 

“Hey, wait!” Aiba says. 

Nino keeps walking, picking up the pace even when Aiba starts chasing behind him. 

“What are you here for?” Aiba asks. 

“You have to pay to get answers to questions you know,” Nino says. 

“Eh?” Aiba says. “Even when we’re not in the shop?” 

Aiba follows along until they turn a corner or two and then they’re at the entrance of the shop. Nino looks at Aiba as if daring him to come inside. 

Aiba sighs. He goes past Nino into the shop then takes out his wallet and pays for the question. 

But oddly this time Nino doesn’t take his money. 

“This one I don’t want to answer,” Nino says. “So keep your money.” 

Aiba looks at Nino carefully. He looks different than usual. Tired and impatient and nothing like the sharp Nino he’s come to know. 

“Are you okay?” Aiba asks, echoing the question that Nino asked him earlier. 

“Fine,” Nino says, yawning. 

“You should take a nap over there,” Aiba says, pointing to the waiting area behind the bar. In addition to the books Aiba had suggested that Nino get pillows to make the wooden seats more comfortable. He doesn’t know where they came from, but three fluffy pillows are perched there, waiting to be sat on. 

Nino shakes his head. “I’m fine,” he says, without yawning this time. 

Then Aiba catches a glimpse of his watch. 

“I’m going to be late!” he says, then rushes for the entrance. 

He looks at Nino one last time before he leaves. Then he points at the pillows again and Nino waves him away and out the door. 

\---

The next dream is a little more alarming than the last. 

This time Aiba is at the station near the bookstore he’s the only one on the platform. It’s early morning, before the morning rush, and when Aiba walks his footsteps echo down the tunnels where the tracks disappear. 

He’s holding a can of juice in one hand and a book in the other. He doesn’t see the trash can set next to one of the pillars and he runs into it then bounces back, defensively, but in doing so he slips and falls back onto the tracks. 

Nino wakes up again, breathing heavily and with the distinct feeling that Aiba isn’t okay. It was fine last time, he tells himself. It’s just a stupid dream, he tries to rationalize. He stares at the book about dreams next to him on the night stand then scowls at it. It’s probably the power of suggestion. Just reading the book alone is going to make you think you can see the future, but you can’t. No one can. Nino can’t and he’s even a fortune teller. 

No, he thinks. There isn’t anything wrong with Aiba. He’s fine. 

But when he tries to roll over into bed again he feels strange and unsettled. He’d call Aiba, but he doesn’t even have his phone number. And even then, what would he say? 

Angrily, he gets up and out of bed. He gets dressed, cursing each article of clothing as he puts it on. Then he leaves, glaring at the book one last time before closing the door. 

\---

Aiba arrives early because today they have a new shipment coming in. The boss asked him to come in long before working hours and while he doesn’t exactly love waking up early he can’t help but get out of bed excited thinking about that huge truckload of books that will be pulling up to the shop. 

They’ll all be new and waiting to be discovered and read and kept. Aiba wants to find out what they are and at least flip through them a little so that he’ll be able to help them get discovered. 

The train station is practically empty before the morning rush. There are a few other commuters but after they go through the gates they head towards the other track and Aiba is on this platform alone. He stops by the vending machine to get a can of juice and takes a novel out of his bag that he’s just about finished with. Maybe he can finish it before he gets to work, he thinks, opening to his bookmark, a puppy wearing glasses sleeping on the open pages of a book twice its size. 

Then he hears loud footsteps coming towards him. Someone is running, rushing down the length of the platform and when Aiba turns around he nearly runs into a trash can that he hadn’t seen there near one of the pillars. 

“Aiba-san!” Nino calls out between heavy breaths. 

“Nino?” Aiba says, squinting. It has to be him, Aiba would recognize his voice anywhere. Then Nino comes into view. 

Nino gasps for air for a moment, pressing his hand into his side as if trying to work away a cramp. 

“Go over there,” Nino says. He points to the benches against the wall. 

“But my train—“ Aiba starts. 

“Go!” Nino says. 

Aiba obeys, sitting down quickly and setting his book down in his lap. 

“Stay here,” Nino says. 

“I have to go to work though…” Aiba says. 

“Just for a minute,” Nino says, sitting down next to him. 

Aiba doesn’t understand but silently he does as Nino says, sitting next to him and drinking his juice while they watch the morning trains go by. 

\---

Nino doesn’t open his shop today. 

He supposes some customers walk by and wonder where he is. Maybe they’ve come to ask something important. If he were a real fortune teller he might feel bad about it, but he’s not so he doesn’t. If there is something they need the answer to, it’s not like he’s the one who is going to be able to give it to them. 

Aiba, on the other hand, is another matter. If Nino leaves here and has another… he doesn’t even want to think the word “vision”. But if he sees another image of something happening to Aiba, despite himself, he’s going to end up right back here at the bookstore again. He might as well just stay here and save himself the trouble. 

Aiba lets him sit in the break room in the back even though at first his boss says no. Aiba asks again, sweetly, this time assuring his boss that Nino is a really nice guy who just has nowhere to go today and it’s almost Christmas (and also almost Aiba’s birthday, which Nino now discovers) so pretty please? So Nino sits in the break room with a warm mug of coffee and a stack of books, comic books and magazines. Aiba keeps bringing more every time he comes back to see Nino and now the stack has grown so high Nino can barely see Aiba over it. 

“Are you okay?” Aiba asks. 

“Will you stop asking me that?” Nino says. 

“I brought some more books,” Aiba says. Then he adds them to the pile. 

When the shop closes that evening Nino walks to the station with Aiba. He fully intends to separate from Aiba at the station, but when he moves to turn around and say goodbye with a wave the feeling rushes over him again. If he goes to bed tonight and has another dream he’s going to come rushing to the bookstore or to the station or to wherever it is that Aiba is. 

Instead of turning around he reaches out and grabs Aiba’s hand and drags him to the other platform, the one that leads to where Nino lives. 

“Wait! What? Eh?” Aiba says, stumbling to find his footing, but letting Nino pull him all the same. 

When they arrive at the platform opposite of where it is Aiba needs to be the train that would have taken Aiba home passes by right in front of them.

Aiba looks over at Nino and blinks. 

“Will you stay over tonight?” Nino asks. 

Aiba’s eyes snap open, his face flushes red and Nino sighs, realizing what he’s said. 

“ _Not_ for anything like that,” Nino says, then looks down at the floor, at his shoes, at the cracks between the tiles of the platform. 

They don’t say anything to each other on the train ride and Aiba follows Nino quietly to his place. They take off their shoes at the entrance and Nino points to a pair of slippers that he has for guests. He doesn’t have many guests, but the slippers are still there. They’re neon blue and Aiba smiles when he slips them on. 

“Want me to make dinner?” Aiba asks. 

“Really?” Nino says. 

“I’m a pretty good cook,” Aiba says. 

Nino shrugs. “Sure,” he says. But he stays in the kitchen just to make sure. There are a lot of ways to be hurt in a kitchen. Knives and fire and all of that. Then even with all of the present dangers, Aiba comes out unscathed. He’s made fried chicken and a kind of improvised salad with the meager offerings of Nino’s refrigerator. It smells warm and Aiba looks satisfied with himself. 

They eat while some variety show is on TV. Aiba can’t stop laughing at one of the comedians and just the sound of his laugh makes Nino relax. His back has been stiff since they sat down together, but he feels himself sinking into the sofa. He closes his eyes, it’s been a long day, and Aiba laughs him to sleep. 

When he wakes up, the dishes have disappeared from the table and he hears the water running in the sink. Aiba is washing up the kitchen and Nino yawns, rubbing his hands over his face. 

“Morning,” Aiba says with a smile and sets the last of the dishes in the rack. 

“Sorry,” Nino says. 

Aiba shakes his head. “You can go back to sleep if you want,” he says. “I should probably get going so I can catch the train…” 

“I said stay over,” Nino says. 

Aiba comes back to the sofa and sits down next to Nino. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Aiba asks. 

“I’m fine,” he says. “Go sleep in my room.” 

Aiba doesn’t have any pajamas with him, but Nino has some spare T-shirts. He changes and slips into Nino’s bed while Nino drags a blanket into the living room and lies back down on the sofa. 

\---

It’s all a little strange, Aiba supposes, looking up at the ceiling of Nino’s bedroom. But he also supposes stranger things have happened. 

The lights are off but a streetlight outside the window turns the ceiling a dull blue. Aiba pulls the covers up over his head where it’s completely dark. 

He tosses and turns a little. He’s not in his own bed and that always feels strange too. 

Nino is his friend. Aiba knows they haven’t known each other long, but if Aiba were to introduce Nino to anyone he’d say it like: “This is my friend, Nino!” and he’s sure the words would come out easily. It’s the truth after all. If Nino and Aiba had met when they were kids they might even be best friends. 

There is also the fact that Nino is cute. Something that hasn’t failed to escape Aiba’s thoughts since the first time they met. Nino is cute and Aiba wants to be friends but a tiny part of him wants to be more than friends. He wants to ask Nino on a date or just snuggle up and read books together. He wants to kiss Nino. When Nino took his hand, Aiba didn’t want him to let go. 

But having no idea if Nino likes him like that or if Nino likes guys like that at all, Aiba hasn’t thought about it much beyond a vague feeling that tickles his insides when Nino is close. He has lots of other feelings about Nino too – he likes Nino’s honesty and the way that Nino makes him laugh. He just likes Nino. Truly and simply. 

He’s finally drifting to sleep when a burst of sound pulls him back. Nino comes in the room breathing heavily and pulling at Aiba’s blankets. 

“Nino?” Aiba says. 

“You were—“ Nino starts. 

The light outside bathes the whole room in that dull blue. It’s hard to see Nino’s face so Aiba just reaches for him. 

“I was?” Aiba asks. 

“You were,” Nino starts again, “out there on the stairs.” Vaguely, Aiba can see Nino’s arm lift up and point towards the entrance. 

“What was I doing there?” Aiba asks. 

“You slipped,” Nino says, “and you were… wait. What?” 

“Huh?” Aiba says. 

“Aiba?” Nino asks. 

Aiba smiles in the dark where Nino can’t see him then reaches out, catching Nino’s hand this time and clasping it in his own. 

“I’m right here,” Aiba says. 

“Fuck,” Nino says. 

Aiba laughs. “You were probably just dreaming,” Aiba says. 

Nino came running to him at the station that morning and stayed with him all day. Aiba didn’t question it too much, people have their reasons for doing things, but now he smiles so big perhaps even the dark can’t hide it. 

“Do you want a hug?” Aiba asks. 

Nino doesn’t say anything, so Aiba pulls him in, wrapping his arms around. 

“So you’re a real fortune teller then,” Aiba says.

Nino sighs heavily. “I’m going to burn your stupid, stupid book,” he says. 

\---

They stay like that for a while, lying in Nino’s bed. Nino falls asleep again, but this time when he wakes up Aiba is right there. 

Nino nudges Aiba with his elbow then he starts to stir. 

“Mmph?” Aiba says. 

“You think I’m a real fortune teller?” Nino asks. 

“Mmhm,” Aiba says, sleepily. 

The truth is, Nino can’t see the future. But he can see possibilities and he can imagine which ones might be the more likely ones. He can tell a lot about people just in the way that they carry themselves. It’s not a mystical power, but it might be a kind of talent if one wanted to think of it that way. 

It’s tonight that Nino thinks he might know almost everything about Aiba. 

“I know what you want to do,” Nino says in a whisper. He feels Aiba’s eyes flutter open, their faces are so close. “You can do it and I’ll do it back.” 

“Really?” Aiba says. 

“Better hurry before I change my mind,” Nino says. 

Then Aiba kisses him. Aiba’s arms are already all around him but they pull tighter and Nino lets himself be enveloped completely. 

\---

One year later, Aiba isn’t living in the same town anymore. Now it’s two towns over. 

One year later, Aiba doesn’t introduce Nino as his friend, but as his boyfriend. He still loves the way the word sounds on his tongue. Sometimes he smiles so much he can’t stand it and sometimes Nino elbows him in the ribs and tells him to calm down. 

But even then when the two of them are alone, Aiba kisses Nino until he’s dizzy just because he can. He kisses him every morning before he goes to work and every evening before they go to sleep. The two of them live here in this apartment. It’s close to the new bookstore Aiba manages now and there was a place for Nino to open up his shop a few blocks away. It’s a café with fortune telling services, Nino says, but the same sign still hangs in the window. _Want to know your future?_

From the moment fall began to turn into winter Aiba hasn’t been able to contain himself. It’s their anniversary soon. Just before his birthday, he remembers. 

He has it all planned. Nino’s going to come home and Aiba is going to make him fried chicken and salad and then he’s going to give Nino a stack of books and then maybe they’re going to kiss. Maybe they’re going to do a lot more than kiss, he thinks, giggling to himself. 

Nino comes home tired and Aiba’s already started cooking. He watches Nino flop down on the sofa, the one Nino had called “that fluffy cloud” when they moved it here from Aiba’s old apartment. 

“I’m home,” Nino says, muffled into the fluffy pillow. 

“Welcome back,” Aiba says. When he’s finished cooking he sits down next to Nino on the sofa and Nino tucks his feet under Aiba’s legs. 

Then he sits up and Aiba hands him a plate. They eat together on the sofa and then Aiba slides his pile of books across the table. There is one about mind reading and one about telekinesis. Nino looks through them skeptically. 

“They’re for the café,” Aiba says. He smiles so Nino doesn’t have to. Then Nino picks up the book about prophetic dreams. 

“Really?” Nino says. 

Aiba frowns. “I thought you’d pick that one up and then look at me and think wow I have the best boyfriend in the world and then kiss me.” 

“Well you thought wrong mister,” Nino says. 

Aiba frowns harder. 

There are times even now when Nino wakes up in the middle of the night and feels around in the bed for Aiba. There are times when Aiba whispers to him in the dark of their bedroom _I’m here_ and something about the way Nino worries about him makes him feel warm from head to toe. From front to back. All over. 

“Sorry,” Aiba mumbles. 

Then when he looks up Nino is grinning at him. 

“You know I don’t believe in all of this,” Nino says. 

“Yeah I know,” Aiba says. 

“You read it,” Nino says, handing the book to Aiba. “Then maybe you can look like a big idiot like me.” 

“You just look cute to me,” Aiba says. “All the time. So there. Now where is my kiss?” 

Nino shrugs. 

Aiba takes the book out of Nino’s hands and places it on the table gently before attacking him with about a hundred kisses.


End file.
